


The Grand Compendium of Wibbly-Wobbly, Timey-Wimey..Stuff

by TheTimelessChild0



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Desperation, Embarrassment, Episode: s01e04-05 Aliens of London/World War Three, Episode: s04e09 Forest of the Dead, Humor, Post-Episode: 2007 Xmas Voyage of the Damned, Post-Episode: s07e04 The Power of Three, Urination
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22697194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTimelessChild0/pseuds/TheTimelessChild0
Summary: AKA The Saga Continues
Comments: 7
Kudos: 12





	1. Bladders of London

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Doctor needs the loo](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18999022) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 



> Does it count as inspiration if it was written by yourself? Oh well..it's back anyway..if you've read it already, you know the drill. If you don't, click the fic above this text, and get a reminder..or a brand new fic to read ;)  
> Here are the rules for old and new readers:
> 
> \- Canon Doctors only (Ruth and Brendan allowed per recent retcon by Chibs)  
> \- no romantic/slash themed prompts. If John Barrowman would suggest it..don't.  
> \- If the last chapter was the 13th Doctor, the next one can not. For the sake of variation.

It started in the flat. The Doctor realised what luck it was, that no policemen ever approached or tried to enter his TARDIS. Unfortunately, he couldn’t stop this policeman from entering Jackie’s flat. Thus, he was currently shifting his feet around while interrogated. 

He really hoped Rose didn’t notice him squeezing his legs together, when Jackie slapped him. 

Standing in the middle of traffic was a blessing, as he could hide his squirming as plain excitement, and no one else was noticing anything that wasn’t alien. Or him. 

*******

_Kids are so lucky,_ he thought, as he wriggled the remote away from some vague cousin or neighbour; which it was he had no clue. _They get whatever they want if they scream loudly enough,_ **_and_ ** _they can_ _pee_ _whenever they want._

Technically so could _he_ , but he’d only been 2 places with Rose this far, and planet of the toilets wasn’t one of them. Whatever she thought about his bodily functions, whether he had them, he wasn’t in a hurry to correct or confirm anything. 

Once the second batch of biscuits shuffled away into the mouths of the children, the Doctor swanned off. 

“Where are you going?” Rose asked, standing in the doorstep. 

“Off on a wander,” was his lie. He added something about the slow speed at which humans made scientific discoveries, for good measure. 

He entered the TARDIS, and went down a corridor to the toilet. He tried opening the door, but it wouldn’t budge. He walked over to another toilet, only to find it contained the library. 

_What are you doing? That’s not funny._ He scolded the TARDIS. The TARDIS didn’t reply. 

The Doctor got the hint. The toilets onboard were out of order, indefinitely. 

Deciding to kill two birds with one stone, he put the TARDIS in flight towards the hospital. It had a bathroom, and a mystery to solve right after. 

* * *

The 2 activities got shuffled around once he arrived. Not only was the hospital entirely too dark for him to make his way around, but as soon as he turned a corner, several UNIT officers raised their guns at him. 

He tried not to look to unnerved by the guns, but felt quite trapped in the few seconds while the pig mutation waddled through the morgue. There was a 75% chance of it being shot at. 

_Make that 100%!_ The sound made him leak a little bit. He cursed his long legs, he couldn’t do much without arising suspicion, besides straightening up suddenly. 

*******

“So, not your favourite friends then,” Rose remarked, while they were being driven. 

“When they’re not armed, they’re alright,” the Doctor conceded. He hadn’t minded his triple decade exile, not entirely. 

“So, what’s the problem?” she asked, confused. 

“Who says I have a problem? We’re going right to the epicentre. It’s Fantastic!” he grinned and shifted once more. 

“That,” she pointed at his seat. “You’re jumpier than usual. You jump about a lot, but you’ve never seemed uncomfortable sitting down, the few times you’ve had to,” Rose mentioned. 

The Doctor put a hand on his knee, to prevent the need for further wriggling. 

“I’ve just never realised how slow cars can be. They were more useful this morning, standing still,” he scoffed. 

Rose put a comforting hand on the Doctor’s thigh. The muscle tensed. The leg was still shaking subtly, fortunately, hidden by the leather. He grabbed her hand, squeezing it. He shot her a reassuring smile, then looked out of the window, hoping she didn’t feel it. 

But, she did. She was pretty sure the Doctor couldn’t be _that_ scared. He was more a wimp than he’d admit, she had figured as much already. 

She looked at him, hoping to find a clue, only to be shocked by a look. It was the same look that he had when he was standing in his ship, hunched over the console, way back when they’d just met. It went away when he admitted what happened to his planet. The same thing that happened to the Earth. It was his “hiding something” look. 

* * *

The Doctor was _very very very_ ** _very_** glad to be wearing black trousers. By the time he got the shock device off himself, he could feel the slightest wet patch in his crotch. If he’d worn beige it’d be obvious enough, but luckily it was still hidden unless you sat down. He pretended to study the ID badge for a second, when really he was hammering a fist in his crotch to squeeze.

****

“Who the hell are you?” he quipped at the woman appearing at his side. 

“Harriet Jones, MP for Flydale North,” she presented herself. 

_Fuck_. 

Out of all the people he did _not_ want to deal with, it was a politician. Especially someone with the guts to hide from a giant alien threat behind a _curtain_. 

***

Rose still could not understand why the Doctor hated sitting down. Instead, he just kept pacing around the room. 

Harriet flipped through the emergency protocols, finding nothing but recently deceased options. 

“Give me that!” the Doctor barked, leaning on the table, while doing the exact same thing all over again. 

“You might find something if you sit down,” Rose suggested. Without a second thought, he followed her advice. 

Looking at the sun beginning to return in the distance out the window, she absently noticed that the Doctor was _still_ shifting. It was strange, if not from impatience, not from fear, what then?

Coffee was the most likely option. It could be an exaggerated reaction, from his Time Lordy-ness. But then she realised Jackie never gave him any. He was glued to the screen, and his hands were either switching channels back and forth, ignoring the objections of the guests, or wrestling with one of the neighbour kids. 

A single ray of light shone on the table for a moment. It also, illuminated the old, worn, material of the Doctor’s trousers. 

Rose looked at the ground to hide an incredibly confused look. Did she imagine it? Was it a trick of the light? She could’ve sworn that she saw a wet spot. On his trousers. She looked again. It took a while to make something out, but it did seem like a spot was a shade or two darker than the rest. 

“You know, when you spit wine it’s not meant to go in your lap,” she smirked at him, playfully pushing his glass of wine away. 

The Doctor instantly got wide eyes, looked at his lap, crossed his legs and breathed a bit quicker. She _saw_. He put both hands on his thighs, so Harriet wouldn't notice as well. Rose hadn’t paid enough attention, but Harriet was the one drinking with him. She would certainly remember whether he had spilled anything. 

“How stupid do you think I am? Time Lords have extra sweat glands. That’s why I was pacing, too cool off. Out of all the places to have that happen,” he blushed. But not because of sweat...

* * *

“Doctor, I have a question..” Rose began. “When we were in Cardiff with Charles Dickens, in Sneed’s house, there was an awkward silence, where you seemed to be thinking really hard about something. What was it?” she asked, curiously. 

“I don’t remember,” the Doctor lied.

“Really? You remember the exact time the Earth burned, but not something that happened 3 days ago?” she countered, sceptically. 

He gritted his teeth at the reminder. 

“Can’t you? Think back,” the Doctor encouraged.

“Well..you didn’t have that look on your face the whole time. You left for a little bit, to go to the loo..then you came back and..oh,” Rose understood. 

The Doctor nodded and smiled in embarrassment, running his finger around his wine glass.

“Oh,” she smirked, realising. 

The Doctor fiddled with his sonic. 

“I don’t understand. What does that have to do with what’s happening right now?” Harriet asked sharply. 

“He had the same look on his face in the car on the way here,” Rose explained. 

“I lied. My species doesn’t have extra sweat glands. Livers yes. I’ve got spares of most my organs. I was in a ventilation room on a space ship once. My core body temperature is so cold, Rose would’ve seen sweat on my clothes. Especially my leather jacket. Points to miss Tyler,” he explained, rolling his eyes.

“So, if you weren’t pacing because of that..oh!” Harriet pieced it together. 

The Doctor blushed to his ears.

Rose grabbed the red folder, trying her best to contain her laughter. 

“What’s so funny?” Harriet asked, curiously. 

  
“Probably my password,” the Doctor interrupted. “I came up with it after visiting the Wild West. Lots of buffalo. Majestic creatures. Dozens of sweat glands embedded in their fur, self-ventilation enough to keep them cool through even the hottest summers. Like camels, only fluffier,” he grinned. 

“Hannibal should have used those instead,” she quipped.

“I didn’t work for UNIT by choice. At least, not the whole time. I got exiled by the Time Lords..that’s what my people were called. They were just the first humans to attract my attention.”

“How long ago was this, for you to not change a single password?” Rose asked, scoffing at the absurdity. 

“About 40 years ago, 70s and 80s,” the Doctor stated. 

“Exactly how old _are_ you?” Harriet asked. 

“900,” he said, plainly.

***

They sat in silence for a bit, just enjoying the sunset. 

Harriet glanced at the alien next to her, and noticed the spot that Rose had been mentioning earlier. 

“What’s that?” she asked out of the blue, pointing at the Doctor’s trousers. 

The Doctor grabbed the folder. “Nothing. A wrinkle,” he shrugged. 

“No, there was a spot. Right down there, in your lap..” Harriet frowned.

“Not sweat,” Rose coughed. 

“And that’s your business why?” the Doctor shot her a glare. 

“Well..I’m glad I’m not the only one who was scared of those things,” Harriet remarked, patting the Doctor on the back reassuringly. 

“I’ll have you know, it was the _ID_ _badges_. I got shocked just like the rest, only I survived. My dignity didn’t,” the Doctor defended himself. 

Harriet looked around the room. She opened what looked like another cupboard, and found a single toilet. 

“Good news. I found a lavatory, Doctor!” she informed him. 

“And that is why I didn’t want to sit down. Eventually, you can’t get up again,” the Doctor admitted, wriggling openly. 

“You’re sure?” Rose checked. 

“Not without degrading myself one of two ways,” 

“And one’s _already_ happened,” Harriet sighed. 

“Put your hands in your pockets, then you can grab yourself discreetly,” Rose suggested.

The Doctor tried that, and managed to stand, instantly bending over, squirming. 

“Which cupboard?!” he exclaimed with panic. 

“The one that isn’t,” Rose pointed to the left.

The Doctor took one hand out of his pockets to grab himself openly, then he sprinted to the open door. 

Trousers went down before the door was even locked, followed by the zipper. The sound of dancing was replaced by rapid, continuous urination. 

Rose began whistling to cover up the noise, followed by Harriet. 

* * *

“I. am _this close._ to tearing bolts out of the TARDIS console,” The Doctor announced upon exiting, throwing out a paper towel, which he’d used to dry off the wet patch. 

“What’d she do to deserve that?” Rose asked. 

The Doctor was about to answer, when he realised. This was her plan all along. To push him to the point that he couldn’t _hide his need_ anymore. He rolled his eyes.

“Nevermind. Just realised I put this on myself,” the Doctor noted. 

“By not telling us about it?” she guessed. He nodded. 

“The TARDIS hid the toilets when I went in to use one of them during the party,” the Doctor retold. 

“Because you were supposed to just use the one in the flat,” Rose started to understand. 

  
“Not asking Jackie was justified, she was still furious at me, but you were there too,” 

“Shyness about using the facilities is quite natural, amongst humans anyway,” Harriet mentioned. 

“Well, the TARDIS has a point. It’s the cost of travelling with someone else. I have to get used to it. Being on my own’s torture,” the Doctor conceded.

“We’ll work on it. We have 3 more days,” Rose encouraged, giving him a thumbs up. 

“How did you..” the Doctor was confused. 

“I did the maths. I would’ve noticed, even with your terribly effective hiding capabilities,” Rose smirked. 

“Make sure to subtract the 5 hours I shouldn’t have waited. That’s _not_ happening again,” the Doctor said firmly, pacing in a different way around the room, trying to figure out who the Slitheen were. 

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a scenario you'd like to see next? Leave a prompt in the comments below ^^ thx!


	2. Barssselona

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon requested a Podfic, so here you go XD

“What are you doing?” Amy frowned at the Doctor. 

He was aiming his sonic screwdriver at himself. 

“Checking the straps for lice. Barcelona’s full of them” he lied. 

“You’re not trying to induce another heart attack, are you? We can’t resuscitate you _again_ ,” Rory rolled his eyes. 

“I really need to install a Swiss Army knife into this rubbish machinery,” the Doctor whined, crossing his legs. 

The Ponds got wide eyes in surprise. 

“Since when is the sonic ‘rubbish’?” Amy asked, confused. 

“Since when do you endorse something that can be used as a _weapon_?” Rory asked, equally confused. 

“Since the third time my braces decided to pull on my ..wiggly bits,” the Doctor blushed. 

Amy suddenly noticed his sitting position. One hand was subtly placed between his thighs. 

“It’s been 3 days, hasn’t it?” she blurted out, smiling. 

“ _Yes._ I just got so wrapped up in getting us here, I didn’t bother to check the tally,” the Doctor sighed. 

Amy stroked his back comfortingly. 

“You could probably go on the floor. It’s pretty dark, no one will notice,” Rory suggested. 

“No way! I’ll eat pure custard before I do that,” the Doctor blatantly refused.

“Come on, it’s not healthy to hold it in like that. We won’t get out of here in time,” Amy argued. 

The Doctor just kept tugging at his braces. 

* * *

“How long ago was it, that you tried to go to Barcelona, before?” Rory queried. 

“The very first time was my 9th regeneration, right before I became the 10th. Then he collapsed from the process going wrong, and got distracted by a million other destinations. I tried again, with this wonderful office temp Donna. Such spirit. Like Amy. Angry gingers seem to reappear in my lives,” the Doctor explained. 

“Hey, I’m not angry, I’m Scottish. There’s a difference,” Amy protested. 

“Yes Amelia,” he apologised, using her childhood name out of respect. 

“Anyway, the TARDIS decided to go to a planet where I got a daughter, but she died,” 

Amy hugged her Raggedy Man. 

“So that’s 3 versions of you, 2 regenerations. You’re telling me, you never ended up in a prison cell needing the loo?” Rory announced his scepticism. 

“That. was _very_ different,” the Doctor claimed. 

“Different how?” Amy interrogated. 

“Well, for one..there was this Doctor, Martha Jones. She made up this scale, where I’d rate how badly I’d need to _go_ because otherwise, I’d hide it from her. I don’t do that anymore,” 

Both Ponds immediately called bollocks with their eyes. 

  
“As much..” he surrendered. 

“I once _wet myself_ because I refused to let any of the other guests at this party, know that I needed to go. I actually ended up doing it on purpose because it hurt so bad,” the Doctor admitted. " _Not_ my idea, Donna convinced me" he added quickly.

“What kind of party was that? Couldn’t you slip away?” Amy questioned. 

“It was a party with Agatha Christie. It was at this estate, and during the party, a man was clubbed to death with a pipe,” he explained. 

“Like the game Clue,” Rory noticed.

The Doctor shrugged. 

“We were about to reveal some clues that I’d found, but since it was still an empty room, I saw my chance, and tried to pop off really quickly..until this Colonel, Curbishley, cornered me with his wheelchair, asking for a push,” 

“Always a big help. But hey, that doesn’t have anything to do with this. There were probably a lot of people altogether, and I know how excited you get around famous people. Like Charles Dickens,” Amy assured him. 

“Donna would’ve made a good Doctor,” Rory noted.

“Yes. Yes, I imagine she would,” the Doctor chuckled sadly. Silence fell, and the Doctor got back to his distractions, like the nails on the bench he was sitting on.

“You still haven’t told me what made peeing on the floor easier,” she reminded him. 

“It was easy to _go_ in the corner, because I didn’t have to go on the _floor_ ,” he explained. 

  
“No way was there a toilet on the wall every single time,” Rory remarked, sceptically. 

“You’re right, most of the time there wasn’t,” the Doctor confirmed. 

“So, where did you go, if not the floor?” Amy asked. 

The Doctor was still squirming, and then sighed. 

“You’re right. I don’t have an excuse not to use the corner. Not while I have it with me,” he surrendered, standing up. 

“Ponds, if you please..I’ll explain later,” he assured them, signalling for them to turn around as he approached the corner. Once they did, he put a hand in his pocket, fumbling around. 

He found the Disposal Pod and put it on the ground, quietly. Amy briefly heard it and frowned, assuming it to be his loud shoes. 

“Oh, _now_ you turn your back,” Rory teased in a whisper. 

Amy nudged her husband to shut up, giving him a glare. 

The Doctor unzipped, pulled himself out and aimed at the pod. He smiled as he began peeing into it. While he leaned backwards in relief, Amy and Rory had to fight the urge to turn around. 

They knew he’d started going, but the noise was muffled, and it didn’t sound like it was landing on the ground. Nor did it evaporate. Both frowned at each other, silently agreeing to being confused. 

Eventually, the Doctor finished, and flushed the pod, leaving it on the ground to show it to his friends. 

“You can turn around now,” he announced. 

They turned around, and noticed a red object behind the Doctor. 

  
“Before you ask, no it is _not_ a potty, Time Lord engineers just never visited Earth,” he clarified. 

“As you heard, the reason why it was easier for me to go in the corner of prison cells, was because I had this. The Disposal Pod! What has changed, is my desire to use it. Both Martha and Donna were very firm with me about using it as soon as I needed it, if there was no other alternative,” the Doctor explained. 

“And so am I,” Rory stated, giving a thumbs up in approval of the Pod, and putting a hand on the Doctor’s shoulder, pointing a finger at him, as a form of strict instruction.

“Doctor’s orders,” the Doctor sighed, but nodded in acceptance. 

“And your mother-in-law’s,” Amy chirped up. 

“I said I’ll use it!” the Doctor held up his hands in surrender. “Can I put it back in my pocket now?” he begged mildly, rolling his eyes. The Ponds nodded. As soon as he’d stowed it away, they hugged him tightly for several minutes. 

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a scenario you'd like to see next? Leave a prompt in the comments below ^^ thx!


	3. The Doctor Dances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are many dances which the Doctor is skilled at. Unfortunately, one is more obvious than desired..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yellow Waterfalls prompt: Doctor does potty dance in front of Kate Stewart. I chose 10, since 13 has 3 companions and would abandon none of them when meeting Kate for the first time, and also don't forget her short legs ;)

It was supposed to be a routine visit. UNIT had gotten a new leader, after Torchwood was shut down, and the British Government finally realised which extra-terrestrial research organisation they should depend on. To the Doctor’s great joy, it was the Brigadiers daughter Kate. 

After pleasantries were observed, the Doctor took a seat by a desk, looking at all the work UNIT had done without him, before and after the Slitheen invasion. 

**********

While Kate had never met this Doctor she had heard plenty of the Doctor in general, from her father. One of her expectations, was to witness his completely still posture while working. Except..he wasn’t still. He was bobbing his leg up and down. At first, she attributed it to his long legs compared to the Doctors her father had met. They had legs that fit under desks slightly better. But, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was related to the way the Doctor bobbed his leg up and down in a car. Her father explained why he had done this. 

The Doctor squeezed his thighs together once she looked away. He couldn’t resist tapping his fingers on his desk. _Damnit_ . _Why here?_ This was entirely different than when he was with the Brigadier. Putting a hand in his lap under the table was out of the question. Spies have eyes.

Dismissing this thought, Kate summoned the Doctor to look at a big digital map. 

It showed the locations of all the UNIT bases around the world. 

* * *

While they talked about a myriad of things, Kate noticed the Doctor was still hyperactive. And considerably more so than when he was sitting down. He was bouncing on his toes, continuously. 

“Are you alright, Doctor?” she asked politely. 

  
“Of course,” the Doctor lied. 

The fact that he immediately leaned on a table behind him, crossing his legs, hinted that he was _not_ in fact, alright. 

The conversation continued, with the Doctor leaning forward and backwards with his legs crossed. When he began gyrating in this position, Kate interjected again. 

  
“Doctor, do you need the toilet?” she asked, bluntly. 

“What? No, I’m fine,” the Doctor frowned and scoffed, scratching the back of his right foot with his left, and clenching his fists. Kate raised a _highly_ suspicious eyebrow. 

She turned the conversation back to Torchwood, revealing that it had been restored to a skeleton, with it’s biggest base “Torchwood **3** ” in Cardiff. 

“Met another Slitheen there,” the Doctor noted. “Turned her into an egg,” he giggled. 

“I for one, love the placement, right next to the fountain,” Kate commented. When she began describing the architecture of the water fixture, the Doctor began hopping up and down. 

  
“Just a bit of cardio,” he explained. “What do you think of the Rift, that was there. Torchwood has been studying it, heard it burst,” Kate mentioned. 

_Really hope I don’t,_ the Doctor thought, grimly. 

“Yes, it..spilt, all over the place, streams abound,” he replied stiffly. Kate caught his staccato. 

“You’re sure you don’t need the loo?” she tried again, smirking. 

“Kate, I’m fine, I promise, look,” the Doctor demonstrated by standing still, which was quickly succeeded by jiggling knees. Kate nodded, pretending to be convinced, while rolling her eyes secretly. 

Any doubt that was pointing to sickness, overheating or the like, was gone. There was no other explanation. The Doctor needed the loo, and quite urgently, it seemed. The Doctor had begun bobbing his knees up and down, while squirming. He stretched his arms to cover it up. “Low blood pressure?” Kate played along. The Doctor shrugged innocently. 

Kate knew it was time to intervene. She approached the map, pretending to study it. “Just out of curiosity, where are you on the scale,” she asked. “8,” the Doctor replied without thinking. He didn’t even realise what he’d admitted to, seconds later. He was preoccupied with tightening the gap between his legs. How he could imagine that what he was doing was in any way comparable to callisthenics, Kate did not know. 

“I see. Well, then I would like to show you something over here,” she invited him. He followed. 

“So, what is this room? Secret lab?” the Doctor blurted out, curiosity overwhelming him as they entered a corridor. 

“No, it’s the toilet” she revealed, smiling at him. She had a hand on his back, which he wrestled out of. “I don’t need it,” he insisted. 

“Both your hands are in your crotch,” Kate pointed out, matter-of-factly. 

The Doctor removed one hand, scratching his neck. “Right..well, maybe I need the lavatory just a little bit. No harm in a quick visit,” the Doctor stated, shrugging. 

“Whatever you say. Third door on the right,” she informed him. 

“Thanks, back in a jiffy!” he announced, sprinting away. 

_Take your time,_ Kate thought, shaking her head. 

* * *

A severely relieved Doctor reentered the main room, eyes instantly falling on his former companion, Dr Martha Jones. 

“You look relieved,” she smiled at him. 

“To see you. How has it been?” the Doctor asked, smiling widely. 

  
“Good. Nice offices. What’d you think of the toilets,” Martha said with a smirk, raising an eyebrow. 

The Doctor blushed mildly. “Better than in Torchwood. They were nonexistent,” he noted. 

“How far on the scale did he get?” Martha asked Kate, knowingly. 

  
“An 8, once I got him to use words instead of _potty dance_ moves,” Kate stated, bluntly. The Doctor looked down sheepishly. 

  
  


“So much for no Martha..,” he muttered under his breath. Martha cleared her throat and rolled her eyes at him. 

“Doctor.” Martha put a hand on his shoulder. “When I asked you if you’d be alright without me, I meant bladderwise as well, I trust you know that,” she reminded him. He nodded. “Every 3 days can’t be rounded up to _never._ You know a billion other species who also urinate. Like **humans** , for one,” she pointed out. 

  
“Yes, Martha,” the Doctor agreed, nodding obediently. Martha ruffled his hair and gave a thumbs up. 

“I’ve got to go, _someone_ decided they wanted to ride on the _Titanic,”_ she excused herself looking at the Doctor.   
  
“There weren’t any icebergs,” he argued. 

“Tell that to Her Majesty,” Kate reminded him. 

  
“I did. She said ‘asteroids are bigger’. Good point,” the Doctor complimented the Queen.

Kate looked pointedly down the hallway where Martha had gone. “Yes, Martha too, can we drop the subject now?” he surrendered, whining. 

“Absolutely. I can tell you how your friend Captain Jack is working at Torchwood 3, and his first day involved him flirting with every single one of his colleagues,” Kate remarked. 

The whole room shook with a brief moment of hysterical laughter. The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a scenario you'd like to see next? Leave a prompt in the comments below ^^ thx!


	4. The only water in the forest is the river

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of _pee_ , mainly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Speaking of bodies of water..PrincessoftheOceans requested partial wetting. Naturally, I had to add Donna!

He was at first, not aware of why he kept his hand in his lap. The other hand, which had previously fought in vain against the metal ring around it, was slunk downwards, as a metaphor for the Doctor’s current emotional state. It soon rose up, and clenched into a fist, as his bladder spasmed.  _ Oh, that’s why.. _

The Doctor moved his legs under himself, and let his knees shake, just to keep anything from coming out. Once he got his foot in the right spot, replacing his hand, he waved towards either of the two sonic screwdrivers. A single leap with his upper body, loosened the foot and freed a leak. He had no choice but to use both hands to hold on. 

The Doctor was panting with the effort of it. 

His breath hitched as he heard footsteps. Worse,  _ heavy  _ footsteps. He shut his eyes, begging fate, Rassilon, God, the Beast in the Pit, whoever was in charge that it wasn’t Lux. 

“Well, I’m glad someone kept you from  _ killing yourself _ ,” Donna remarked, looking at the chair the Doctor was chained next to. 

“Sorry, too soon? My condolences,” she patted him on the shoulder. 

“Donna! I’m so glad you’re okay,” the Doctor sighed in relief. As happens when one sighs in relief, a second’s spurt emerged once again. He quickly put his hands back in position. 

“Oop, wrong relief,” he smiled awkwardly, blushing. 

Donna quickly grabbed the smaller of the 2 sonics and uncuffed the Doctor. 

  
“How did you know which button to press?” the Doctor asked, momentarily curious.

“I saw it when you uncuffed me in the Oodsphere, memorised the button,” Donna explained. 

“Brilliant,” the Doctor complimented, getting up. With a smile on his face, his desperation was forgotten completely. That is, until he was stood up straight, and his muscles loosened completely. 

“Uh oh,” was his immediate reaction. With a grunt of pain and a pulsing sensation protesting the pressure the Doctor applied to his crotch with both hands, he managed to turn the flow into a sputter, then turn it off entirely. 

“nngghh..I can’t hold on much longer,” the Doctor admitted, scouring his surroundings then rolling his eyes in defeat. 

  
“You’re too embarrassed about your _natural_ bodily functions to carry a bottle, I expect,” Donna muttered, concerned. 

“No!” the Doctor corrected, hurriedly searching his pockets. He placed the bottle in front of himself, with the lid thrown on the floor in his haste, and realised Donna was in front of him.    
  
“Ehm...Donna? If you’d like to turn around, that’d be much appreciated,” he hinted, tensely. 

As soon as she did, the Doctor unbuttoned, unzipped and angled himself into the bottle. It sounded vaguely like a soda dispenser, with the force of it. 

“You could’ve told me how many hot chocolates can  _ fit,”  _ Donna pointed out. 

“Next time we’ll have coffee, can’t hold it  _ all night _ then,” the Doctor agreed, closing his eyes and enjoying the bliss. For better or for worse, the bottle was sufficient to contain all the urine inside of him. He zipped up, and winced at the sight of his trousers. There was a highly visible wet patch on them.

“Have Time Lords not heard of overtime?” Donna remarked, like the temp she was. 

“They haven’t heard of the concept of  _ day, _ ” the Doctor explained, grabbing both sonics. 

“Now, here’s the problem. I can’t walk back to Lux, looking like  _ this, _ ” he complained, pointing at the evidence of his accident. 

“Yes you can, he’s probably preoccupied with all the people saved.. _ safe _ , and you’ve got a giant coat that can be tied shut,” Donna reminded him, handing it to him. 

  
“I guess you left that when you were about to endanger your life. Again.” 

“At least this time, I didn’t have to  _ go _ in a forest,” the Doctor chuckled. 

“You did pee a whole  _ river _ though,” Donna laughed. 

“Eyes and ears!” the Doctor laughed in return. They continued to laugh as they walked back. 

By the time they had returned to see all the people teleporting off, the Doctor was silent, only one emotion on his face, on his eyes: sadness. 

Donna hugged him tightly. “Shower in the TARDIS will wash all those tears away,” she cooed. “Among other things,” the Doctor added, smirking but also wincing at the coolness of his wet pants.

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can now suggest prompts with the following Doctors: Brendan and Ruth. They have both been recently canonized. Congratulations.


End file.
